Swiftcurrent Creek smells like teen spirit

Lost in slumber, Viinturuth lay sprawled in their family's burrow without a care in the world. His toes and tail twitched as he dreamed - probably of nursing - and his tiny pink tongue poked adorably between his lips. He emitted a soft, quiet "wuff!" and remained blissfully unaware of his brother's mischief.

Durnehviir stepped over the remaining trio and despite her careful steps, she unknowingly nudged the palest youngster with her rear paw in her bid to capture her other son before he ventured into the unknown. Offended at having been shoved and roused, Viinturuth poked his nose accusingly at his nearest sibling's ribs before he shook his head and, much to his surprise, opened his eyes.

The sights were fuzzy, and he blinked against the daylight as he peered around him. Fixing his gaze to the blurry figure of the one he immediately knew to be his mother, Viin gathered himself and wobbled clumsily in her direction to press himself to her forelimbs and look up at her ivory chin.